


Branded By Tears

by AshWolfForever



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adoption, Anthropomorphic, Family, Gen, Lions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2019-08-08 23:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 18,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16438940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshWolfForever/pseuds/AshWolfForever
Summary: Mauja thought she was not meant to be a mother after the loss of her first litter. Then she stumbles upon a cheetah cub orphaned by her pride. Ignoring common sense, she takes the cub in as her own. All is well until her secret is discovered, forcing her to leave all she has ever known behind.She had never put much stock in the cub's tale that explained the markings below her eyes. But with nowhere else to go, she follows its instructions. Along the way, Mauja realizes that her son Sigumba may be, a lion he is not. How can a lion gift a cheetah the skills needed to survive?





	1. Chapter One

“What did I do wrong?”

The tall savanna grass hissed in the wind around her as Mauja caught her breath beneath the stars. The sound reminded the young lioness of her elder sisters' cruel laughter.  _How do I tell them I lost the litter? What will they say when they learn I'm not just a freak, but that I can't even be a mother?_

Unlike her pride mates, Mauja bore two markings below each of her blue eyes. Her mother claimed her father's face had been marked the same way, drawing a female's gaze to his green eyes. Ajamu had been driven out by the current males before Mauja was born. Some of her sisters shared his green eyes, some even shared her blue, but none shared the markings. They often teased her they had never seen such on a female.

 _Maybe that's what went wrong,_  she thought, her lip curling up in disgust.  _Maybe these stupid dots mean I'm more a male than a female!_

Like prey startled too soon, all her hopes and dreams were gone. Mauja lay beside the still forms of her first litter, unable to process the reality staring her down. They had not ceased to kick, that she could remember. The births had been painful, yes, but not a struggle. Yet the four small bodies lay motionless. The lioness licked each cub a final time, but though still warm, there was no breath, no life to be found.  _How could this happen?_

The stench of blood lingered in the air from the untouched afterbirth.  _I should deal with that before the prospect of a free meal draws scavengers._ Mauja felt her lip curl again. Right then, she would have welcomed the fight.  _Anything would be better than this awful emptiness._

When she could look no longer, Mauja nudged both the corpses and afterbirth into a pile then walked away. She ambled aimlessly through the grass, her thoughts chasing each other around her mind like a cub with its tail. She would never watch hers play now. Over and over she prowled her memory in hopes of sniffing out the mistake that had cost her her cubs.

The scent of water reached her nose and her thirst pushed all other concerns to the side. She chose not to dwell on how long she must have been lost in her thoughts to come this close to the river. Right then she needed a drink.  _Maybe once my throat's cool, I'll figure out how to tell everyone..._ She reached the riverbank and dipped her head, the lapping of her tongue all she heard until a sharp crack shattered the silence. Mauja crouched and growled, her tail whipping as she faced the newcomer.

“Oh, relax will you?” Tengwa's voice came out exasperated. Not that Mauja remembered ever hearing it any other way. “It's just me.” Seconds later her elder sister stepped into the moonlight dragging a prone form. “Stupid fools.” She dropped a cheetah carcass beside the river. “Father was never this thoughtless.”

Mauja was eager for the distraction from her morbid thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

“One of our  _wonderful_  guards was so kind as to dispatch this predator.” Tengwa curled her lip in disgust. “He just couldn't be bothered to dispose of it. Not like attracting scavengers near helpless offspring that must be left unattended while their mothers seek out substance would have any negative consequences.”

The guards, the males of the pride, were something Mauja usually ignored. Males served their purpose, but there was no good getting attached to one.  _Males come and go, but we remain forever._ At least that's what she had always been taught, and thus far in her short life, she had not seen a reason to question it. Her own brothers had been driven out. The breeding that had resulted in her stillborn litter had simply been a rite of passage.

Mauja flinched, her eyes darting back the way she had come. She had done no better than the guard. Leaving the proof of her failure like that might cost one of her pride mates  _their_  cubs!

Before she could say anything, her sister added, “So it fell to me.” Tengwa dragged the carcass a bit further down the bank and let it slide down into the river.

No sooner did the body hit the water than the surface churned and dark scales glinted in the moonlight. What the young lioness had taken for old logs turned out to be crocodiles.

Mauja swiftly backed away from the bank, her thirst no longer as great a concern.  _I can't believe I forgot!_ She cursed herself and her distracted thoughts.

Tengwa looked her over through suspicious eyes. “You've had your cubs.” She snorted. “About time. Congratulations.”

Mauja muttered a thank you, eyes still on the settling water.  _I've got to get my head together. So I lost the cubs._ Her throat seemed to close up on her.  _It... it happens._

Tengwa followed her gaze. “Would you grow up? I had to get rid of it as soon as possible...” She looked back at her and sighed. “Oh, no. Not  _this_ again. Look, it had to be done. Our cubs come before hers; they're likely already dead anyway.”

“That's not what I was thinking, thank you!” Mauja fought back a snarl. Her tail swished as her pain found a target.

“Oh really?” Tengwa smirked. “Then what was on your mind that you looked like a cub the first time its denied milk?”

“I...” She couldn't say she'd lost the litter, nor could she admit she had forgotten the crocodiles lived in this part of the river. It was no secret the other lioness thought her an idiot.  _I prove her right enough as it is._

Tengwa didn't wait for her to answer. “That's what I thought.” She clicked her tongue. “I almost expect you to start eating grass. Your kindness is going to get you in trouble someday. Well, see you around. My cubs need to eat, and moonlight's wasting.”

Mauja stared after Tengwa then hung her head. She sighed and left the river. She retraced her steps, intending to right at least one mistake. The snarls that reached her ears before she had covered half the distance told her it was too late for that. She turned away, letting her paws carry her wherever they would.

Her mind went to the cheetah, the mother who was now food for the crocodiles. Then once more to her own lost cubs.  _A mother loses her cubs,_ she thought, throat tight.  _Cubs lose their mother. Get over it, Mauja! That's simply how it is._

Just then, her paw came down on something soft and giving. She jumped back as a loud hissing filled the air. Her ears came up in surprise once she saw the source of the noise.

A spotted cub with long gray fur down his back crouched at her feet, hissing and spitting with his fur on end. The display would have been impressive, had his scent not betrayed his fear.

She chuckled then sobered.  _You poor thing._  “Shh,” she said in a soothing tone, reaching out a paw and pulling the cub close. “Shh, I'm not going to hurt you.” She licked the top of his head once, then again and again until his breathing slowed down.

“Not alone!” He snuggled tight against her. “Is not alone!” He repeated the phrase over and over, even when she asked him for his name. He only stopped when he found her milk-swollen teats and started to nurse.

The feeling of the cheetah cub feeding shifted something in the lioness.  _What am I doing? I can't... the kindest thing to do would be to..._ But Mauja couldn't bear the thought of him lying still. It would not be safe to stay here. If the males found his mother's scent and came looking... Mind made up, she pushed him away from her belly and lifted him up in her jaws.

He did not protest, going limp just as lion cubs would.

She carried him until she found a thicket and crawled inside. The lioness lay down and released him, smiling as the cub went right back to his interrupted meal. “I cannot keep calling you 'the cub'. You need a name.” She thought of what he said when she found him. That would do. “Sigumba,” Mauja said softly, testing it out.  _Yes, that will work nicely._  The lioness found her gaze going to the stars above as she considered the mother cheetah and her own stillborn litter.  _I do not know your name, but perhaps... perhaps you nurse my children as I nurse yours._ She looked back down at Sigumba.  _You will grow strong, little one. Males come and go, but when you do, you will be prepared. I promise._


	2. Chapter Two

_It's so good to have a full stomach._ Mauja made her way through the tall grass, her ears twitching at each sound. Hunts often failed, but tonight luck had been on her side. _That antelope never even saw me coming._  The grass gave way to a stretch of dirt pounded bare by the river-bound herds. A change in the wind stirred up a small dust cloud that made her sneeze. Once she cleared her nose so she could smell again she groaned.  _Oh, no._

Tengwa stepped into view, a young cub hanging from her mouth. She walked over and set the cub between them. "I thought I smelled you. Made a successful kill for once, hmm?"

She ignored the jab at her hunting skills. "Evening, Tengwa." Mauja looked down at the cub. Her nose told her it was a female. "Moving your cub?"

"Cubs." Tengwa's expression became smug. "I had four, all girls, and haven't lost one yet. This sweetheart is my last trip. Say hello to Aunt Mauja, baby."

The babe hissed and ducked behind her mother's legs.

Tengwa laughed and licked the cub's head before returning to the conversation. "How are many darlings do you have? I do hope you haven't lost any."

"I..."She thought fast. If she admitted she had lost her cubs, the guards would come sniffing around. On the other paw, telling her sister she was caring for the dead cheetah's cub wouldn't go over well. "I've a male waiting for me." There. That was the truth.

"Only one? And a male?" Tengwa smirked. "Well, not all first litters are successful."

The cub poked her head out from behind Tengwa's left foreleg and looked up at Maujawith a curious look in her blue eyes.

"She has my markings!" Mauja stared in wonder at the dots on her niece's face.  _I'm not the only female that has them? Then..._

"Father's markings." Tengwa flicked her tail, annoyance written all over her face. "Does your son have them, too?"

Mauja thought of the black streaks running down Sigumba's cheeks. "He has markings below his eyes, yes." She tore her eyes from her niece to make eye contact with her sister. "And I should get back to him. Take care, Tengwa." She smiled at the cub. "And you, little one."

"You, too. Mother will be thrilled. Just imagine if he ends up with Father's leaf-colored eyes as well." Tengwa shook her head, picked up her daughter and disappeared into the tall grass.

Mauja, too, slipped back into the grass, comforted by its caress along her face and her body. With nine mothers all moving their cubs every few days, keeping out of sight was almost impossible. The scent of the river grew fainter as she walked. She paused beside a tall, gnarly tree. She usually passed it and its neighbor.  _Maybe I should take another route. My luck Teng will make a point to tell Mother about the markings and..._ She put a paw on the rough bark then shook her head. Even if she took the trees to avoid a fresh scent trail, the old one was clear enough.  _I can't have Mother finding us. I should just move him again._

Sigumba ran out to meet her when she returned. He rubbed against her legs, purring.

"How many times have I told you to wait until I reach you?" Mauja licked his head. The sound had once been strange to her ears. Now she knew it signaled so much: Full, happy, safe... needing comfort. She picked him up and carried him back inside the ring of boulders that currently served as their hiding place. "I don't want someone to see you and hurt you."

"Sorry." Sigumba pushed his way to her belly and started suckling. His contented purring was reassuring to hear. Once he was full, he curled up beside her and raised a paw to touch her face. "Did you cry too long, too?"

"Cry too long?" Mauja looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He looked puzzled for a moment. "Like the story about a mama that lost her babies and cried too long for them." He put a paw on his own cheek markings. "Her fur turned dark there forever. And her new babies had 'em too." He tilted his head. "Maybe your mama cried too long?"

Mauja didn't know what to say. Was this some cheetah story? "How we got our markings?" He was pretty young to remember anything his mother might have told him. She shook her head. "My mama doesn't have them." She smiled. "But I do know a story about them."

"Tell me?" Sigumba curled up between her front paws and looked up at her expectantly. "Please?"

"If you insist." Mauja tried not to laugh. "I suppose it's not much different from yours, really. Once there was a lioness. She and her sisters were captured by some of the Creator's Favorites."

Sigumba's ears folded back and his eyes grew wide as a full moon. He had never seen a Creator's Favorite – as most creatures referred to humans –and nor had she. "Why?" He crouched and curled up tight against her. "Did they want to eat them?"

"No. What they wanted were the lionesses' hides." She bumped his nose with her own. "Remember, they are born without fur of their own, so they must take from creatures gifted with it. This lioness, named Mahari, and her sisters were next.

"We accept the necessity that some of us must die to provide for the Creator's Favorites. Nothing lives without taking from another. But just as some of  _us_  are selfish, and take more than we need, so too do some of His Favorites. Mahari's captors were among these. They already had more than enough hides.

"Mahari was desperate to save her sisters." Mauja frowned and tapped her tail against the ground. "To save them, she needed powers she had not been born with. Now, we are all taught from cubhood that desiring  _more_ than what the Creator gifted you with is wrong, and can only lead to heartbreak. But Mahari's mind was made up. No price was too high."

Sigumba raised his head with hope in his eyes. "What were the powers?"

"I..."Mauja flicked her tail uneasily. She had asked the same when Tengwa had told her this story.  _"Father didn't say, now hush and let me finish!"_ She flinched at the memory. "Let me finish before you ask any questions, please. Mahari knew it was wrong, but still, she begged for the powers. She knew the Creator would never grant them... so she turned to theDestroyer."

Sigumba's eyes were round as the full moon as he sat, held captive by the tale.

"And of course, her request was granted. Mahari wasted no time in using her new powers to free her sisters and kill the Fallen Favorites, so they would never come after them again." Mauja ducked her head and looked him in the eye. "However, her sisters saw what she had become, and were disgusted. They left as soon as they could, and never spoke to her again.

"Alone, all she had fought for lost, Mahari lay on the cold ground and sobbed. The Creator heard her cries and said: Cry not, oh lioness so loving and brave. You knew your actions were not without cost. But know this, child. Because your choice was made out of love, I will allow your stolen gifts to pass onto your children. You will not always be alone.

"He reached out and touched her face, twice below each eye, and dark markings, like the tears she had shed, appeared. Then He said: In memory of your actions and the price you paid for them, your face shall forever be branded by your tears. Those of your line who share your gifts, not given freely, will bear them as well. May none forget the tears you shed for what you have lost."

"So she  _did_  cry too long, just like the Mama!" Sigumba's smile lit up his face. "I was right!"

Mauja ruffled his fur. "Yes, yes you were. And now, whenever a cub is born of her line that shares her gifts, it too bears the marks."

"Does that mean you're like Mahari?" Sigumba yawned and blinked. "Of course you are... you're brave and loving, too!"

"Maybe I am." Mauja bumped his nose with hers. "But  _you_  are sleepy. Time to head to dreamland."

Sigumba yawned again and nodded. "Sweet dreams. Thank you for the story."

She smiled and curled up around him. "You're welcome, Sigumba. Sleep well."


	3. Chapter Three

The savanna foliage swayed with the wind as Sigumba darted in and out of sight, chasing whatever insects caught his eye. Mauja kept her eyes upon the cub, and her other senses tuned to any possible approach. The sun had risen and set many times since she had found him. Sigumba was growing fast, but he was still largely helpless.

"What am I going to do with him?" Mauja rested her head upon her paws, ears twitching at every sound in the area. She couldn't take him back to the pride as she would have her own cubs. He was just too small. She remembered smaller cubs that had not made it passed their first moon among the pride.  _If only other felines were as advanced as we are. But no..._ She sighed.  _His mother and every other idiot try to raise their cubs on their own. Cubs need the protection of the group._

_Do they? That's strange, it seems there are plenty of those less-advanced felines around. Seems to work for them. Maybe a cheetah needs to be raised a cheetah._

She shivered at those thoughts.  _But... maybe that's the best thing to do. If I stay here, he'll be found. It doesn't matter who finds him._  She sighed.  _He's not a lion. They'll kill him. So leaving... leaving will at least give him a chance. Still, where would we go? It's not like there's a pride somewhere of all kinds of felines we can join._

A throat cleared behind her.

Mauja stood and spun, coming face to face with her mother. Her ears folded back and her tail lashed as her heart sped up. "Hello, Mom."

Pamoja's expression twisted into disappointment. "Tengwa said you had a son. We expected you to have rejoined the pride like the rest of us by now." She looked passed Mauja to Sigumba. "But now I believe I know what has kept you. Where are  _your_  cubs, daughter?"

Mauja hung her head. "They were stillborn. Mother, I know you're disappointed, but –"

"Of course I am." Pamoja closed the distance. "Though not because you lost  _your_  cubs. It happens." She looked her daughter in the eye. "You cannot keep him. The guards will kill him, if our pride sisters don't first. What were you thinking?"

"Hello?" Sigumba came up and curled around Mauja's fore-legs. "You look like Mau –"

"Sigumba be quiet!" Mauja shifted so he was safely behind her. "What did I tell you about strangers?"

"But you're talking to her." Sigumba made a face. "So she's not a stranger."

Pamoja chuckled and leaned down. "He does have a point. What were you saying, little one?"

"Are you sisters?" Sigumba looked delighted to be talking to someone new for a change. "You really look alike."

Pamoja gave a laugh that would have put a hyena to shame. "Well, you are certainly a charmer, aren't you? No, little one, I'm her mother. Thank you for the compliment."

"You're welcome." Sigumba grinned then darted out from behind Mauja and raced around them. "Do you want to play? Please?"

Mauja gave her mother a hard look.  _What will you do now? Since you just said he's a dead cub walking?_ She could barely hold back the growl she felt rumbling in her chest.

"Not now." Pamoja glanced at Mauja. "We have some grown-up talking to do. Why don't you go back to your game, OK?"

Sigumba folded his ears back and frowned. He huffed, but nodded and took off back into the grass.

"What was  _that_?" Mauja hissed through her teeth. "Mother how dare you? Sigumba thinks you like him now."

"When did I say I don't?" Pamoja shook her head. "Daughter, it's simply the fact he is living on borrowed time. Your intentions were honorable, likely your grief played a big part of it, but... you can't keep him. And you knew that from the start. So.." She narrowed her eyes. "How dare  _you_?"

Mauja folded her ears back and hung her head. "He doesn't deserve to die." She scuffed the ground with a paw.  _There's nothing else to do._ "Please, don't tell anyone. We'll be gone soon."

Her mother's jaw dropped. "Gone? Mauja you can't be thinking of going nomad."

"What else is there, Mother?" She drew herself up to her full height and narrowed her eyes. "I won't kill him, or let anyone here do it."

"Males come and go, Mauja." Pamoja's gaze was cold. "Even were he your own cub, he would leave once he was grown."

"And when he is, I'll come home. When he can stand on his own, I'll come back."

"And just where will you live in the meantime?"

 _Good question. Where? Nomads don't get accepted by other prides. Unless..._ Mauja looked in the direction of the setting sun. "I'll go to the land of Mahari." She smirked. "Who knows? I might even meet Father there."

"He's dead, Mauja!" Pamoja snarled, obvious pain in her eyes. "No one could go far as mangled as his leg was. He's dead, and you will be too, chasing after cub's tales. He could no more reach 'Mahari's land' than he could turn into one the Creator's Favorites. Some stories are just that -  _stories_."

"It's my choice to make."

"And here is mine." Pamoja turned away, her tail lashing at her sides as she curled her lip back. "I will say nothing until next sunset. After that, I tell the guards. So if you are going to leave, be gone before then. Should you find 'Mahari's land', don't bother coming home."

"Mother!" Mauja lifted a paw to follow.  _"Mother!"_

"Where she going?" Sigumba came up beside her. He looked up with a frown and folded ears. "I thought we were gonna play."

"She had to go." Mauja bumped her head against his. "And so should we. Come on, time for sleep."

"Aw!" Sigumba pouted. "But it's not even dark yet."

"It's close enough, now come along." Mauja looked over her shoulder and blinked back tears.  _Good-bye, Mother._ At least Pamoja had given them time. She would have to be content with that.  _But what if she changes her mind?_  She would have to have a backup plan. Once she had the cub tucked into a thicket, Mauja considered her options.

 _I could leave now. Tonight._ But the pride would be up and about after dark. She'd be far more likely to run into someone before she could escape. How could she even the odds? Then she remembered the night she had lost... the night she had found Sigumba. Once more she saw his mother's body slide under the water, only to be snapped up by the crocodiles.  _Even a full-grown male doesn't dare challenge them._ She slowly stood, careful not to wake the sleeping cub, and made her way to the river.

Mauja stopped on the bank. She kicked the largest rock she could see into the water. The thunk-splash echoed in her ears. Her heart raced as she waited for a sign. The only movement was the flow of the river. "I... I know you're there." Using common speech felt like walking through mud. "Please, come out, Lords of the River. I need to speak with you."

The water churned and a large crocodile surfaced, its yellow eyes chilling in their gaze. "What words could one such as you seek to share with the likes of us?"

More crocodiles rose to the surface, swimming around their spokesperson, their eyes as cold as his.

"I need to beg safe passage through your river."

"None pass freely. If you get to the other side by grace of skill, we accept defeat. Food comes too hard to waste opportunities."

Mauja's heart sank. "That... that is sound logic. But..." She struggled to find the words. Should the guards come, even just one, she had only one chance to save Sigumba. She felt her stomach twist as she realized the only thing she could offer. "But when I seek to pass, there will be better opportunities behind me."  _No need to say they won't follow, right? Surely they would not risk death for one lioness?_ "Let me pass, and they will be yours."

The flow of the river and the faint splash of his fellows was the only sound for several minutes. Then the crocodile met her gaze. "Pass then, when the time comes. Just remember to expect in others the honor you find in yourself."

"Thank you." Mauja ducked her head. "I must be going, but I appreciate your honor and understanding. Good hunting."

"No." The crocodile grinned. "Thank you."


	4. Chapter Four

The heat of the sun beating down made Mauja drowsy. She knew the pride would likely feel the same way. They were likely resting in the shade, waiting for nightfall. But she could not. Her mother's words were crystal clear in her mind. She led Sigumba along toward the border, moving slowly so as not to attract unwanted attention. At least, she was moving slowly.

Sigumba raced around her and ahead of her, laughing as he pounced on stray leaves and random bugs. He kept within sight though, and his voice down, so she did not scold him.

 _The sooner we cross the border the better._  Mauja was sure the guards would not bother to look for her outside the territory. What good would a single lioness do them? If asked her mother would likely tell the truth. Surely her unnatural behavior would mean they would be happy she was gone? She sighed and lay down.  _It's so hot._ She would catch her breath for a moment. Just a moment.

Sigumba took a few minutes to notice she had stopped. When he did, he ran up to her with a smile. He reached out and licked her cheek. "I love you, Mama."

Four simple words. That was all it took for her heart to skip a beat. She didn't know why it surprised her. She was all he had, all he knew. But still, those four words and that quick lick to her chin froze her where she lay.

The cub was oblivious and scampered off to chase a butterfly.

As she watched him play, Mauja tried to get a grip on what she was feeling.  _He's not my son. I just couldn't let him die. That's all, nothing more._

_Then why are you throwing away your home and family for him? If he means nothing to you, why not end him and have cubs that will?_

The lioness growled softly at the inner voice.  _I can't do that! He's a cub!_  Mauja took a deep breath.  _Why am I lying to myself?_ She looked up where Sigumba scampered through the grass, happy as a cub should be.  _Cheetah he may be, but he is my son._

Then a loud roar echoed across the landscape. One of the guards burst out of the grass and rushed toward Sigumba, fury written all over his face.

The cub froze, terrified. "MAMA!"

Mauja moved faster than she thought was possible. Within two bounds she reached the cub. She picked him up by the scruff and ran, the guard hot on her heels.  _At least it's only one._ But she heard more roars behind her. Her heart sank.  _The river! I just have to make it to the river!_ Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her lungs burned as she struggled to keep the distance between herself and her pursuers. The cool, musty scent of the river teased her nose.  _Almost there!_

Cold yellow eyes flashed. Then what anyone unaware of the river's inhabitants would have seen as logs "drifted" to form a bridge from one bank to the other.

The bang of blood in Mauja's ears drowned out the guards' words. She had gone too far to turn back now. The wet hard scales felt strange on her paw pads, but she still ran across to the other side. She didn't stop once her feet touched solid ground.  _I better get out of range before they realize they won't be eating like they thought._

Pain-filled roars and loud splashes filled the air.

Mauja stopped and looked back, her jaw going slack.  _No! No, no, no, no!_

"Oof!" Sigumba dropped to the ground. He shook himself then looked up in horror. "Mama what's happening?"

The crocodiles worked with the same ruthless efficiency of her pride sisters. Each of the first guard's legs was grasped by a crocodile and together these four dragged him under. The water churned then only bubbles broke the surface. Before her eyes, they slowed then ceased completely. The river ran red with blood.

The remaining two guards stood glaring at her from the safety of the bank. Both were drenched and one lay on his side, panting. They roared after her, then turned back toward the main territory. One was limping and she wasn't sure if the blood on the breeze was just in the water.

"I see you kept your end of the deal, lioness." The same crocodile, she assumed, poked his head above the water with a chilly grin. "I commend you on your selfishness."

"I am not selfish!" Mauja's lips curled back in a snarl. "I couldn't fight them off, and they would have killed my cub!" She stepped over Sigumba, her tail lashing.

The crocodile looked at Sigumba with amusement in his eyes. "One cub's life, for how many? One has died here, but how many were you willing to trade?"

Mauja folded her ears.  _There's still two. The pride will be safe._ She dared not admit she had hoped that none would die here. "Thank you for your assistance, but we must be going. Enjoy your meal." She lifted Sigumba up once more and strode off.

The cub was uncharacteristically silent for a good while. "Mama? What did I do wrong?"

She stopped and put him down. "You did nothing wrong."

"Then why did they want to kill me?"

Mauja sighed, then moved so she was standing beside him. She placed her paw beside his. "What's the difference between our paws?"

Sigumba looked confused but stared at their paws a moment. "My paw is smaller?"

"Yes, but Sigumba, you're... we're not the same." Mauja frowned. "Remember the story you told me? The one about the mother who cried too long? Who told that to you?"

"You did." Sigumba made a face. "When I was smaller and couldn't sleep."

 _He..._  Mauja swallowed hard. No wonder he called her "Mama". He didn't remember his real one anymore. What did she do now? How could she explain? "Sigumba, it's... they..."

"They're just not nice?" Sigumba tapped his tail against the ground. "Where are we going, anyway?"

That she could answer. Letting the more difficult subject drop, Mauja looked up at the sun overhead. "Mahari's land. We'll be safe there."

Sigumba looked up at her in awe, then he frowned again. "How do you know where it is?"

"Because I was taught a little song that tells the way." Mauja took a deep breath and sang, "Child branded by Mahari's tears, there's a place for you, I say. Where safety lies and all your fears, fade like night into day. Follow the sun by day, yes my dear it knows the way. Follow the lion that lives in the stars at night. Yes he'll steer you right."

"That's pretty!" Sigumba jumped up and pranced around her, then looked up at the sun. "Is there more?"

Mauja nodded. "The trees my child are your friends. When sleep calls their branches seek. They'll guard you until the trail ends. This journey is not for the meek." She started walking again, following the sun just as it said. "Beware others of your kind. Only in those marked can you trust. Those without, to your gifts are blind. So keep your distance as you must."

Sigumba trotted next to her, then looked up with folded ears. "Is that why they chased us?"

Mauja looked at him sadly. She didn't want to lie. "People don't like what they don't understand. Can you repeat the directions?"

"Follow the sun by day." Sigumba's smile lit up his face. "Yes, my dear it knows the way." When he finished, he asked, "Did I get it right?"

"Yes." Mauja smiled. "Now start again. Child branded by Mahari's tears..." As she repeated the song, she had to admit her mother was right. It  _did_  sound like a "cub's tale".

Sigumba didn't seem to notice anything amiss, but a cub himself, he wouldn't. He was just happy to be singing with her.

Mauja kept the last verse to herself, as it would never apply to her son.  _"When Mahari's land you reach, then my child you may rest. And one day these words you'll teach, to your own to aid their quest."_ Cub's tale it might be, but it was their only hope.


	5. Chapter Five

One lone tree broke the endless blue of the sky and golden-green of the savanna grass. Tengwa lay in the shelter of its shade, head on her paws and tail idly tapping against the ground.  _Something is wrong. I've never seen Mother look that disappointed. Mauja's failure of a litter wouldn't cause that response._ She twisted her lip in annoyance.  _What could that overgrown cub have done this time?_

Mauja, the last obvious cub of their father, had been spoiled in Tengwa's opinion. Then again, their mother had an unnatural attachment to their father, anyway. Males come and go, as the saying went. So the change from one guard to three should have been welcome. But Pamoja had pined for Ajamu, and despite the risk she presented, been delighted to have one last cub from him.

Movement caught her eye. Tengwa raised her head to see two of the guards join the resting lionesses in shade. She caught blood's bitter scent and curled her lips before she stopped the snarl short. It was not uncommon for the guards to show up wounded. Challenges happened after all.

The larger of the two roared, waking every lioness. He glared at them all one by one. “Did any of you know of your pride sister's treachery?”

“Treachery?”

“What's going on?”

The pride all echoed the cries of denial and confusion. No one seemed to know what the male was talking about.

The guard snarled. He looked over at his brother. “Well, you can thank that traitor for costing you one guard and crippling another.”

The other male lay upon the ground, licking at his left fore-leg. The paw was completely gone.

 _He'll be useless!_ Tengwa felt a growl rumble in her chest.  _If any challengers come, they won't stand a chance._

“What happened?” Pamoja stepped forward, ears back and tail twitching.

“You've all been worrying over your missing pride sister, so we decided to actually search for her.” The guard's eyes shown with anger and pain. “Imagine our surprise when we discovered a cheetah cub romping around like he owned the place.” He went on, telling them how Mauja had grabbed the cub, fled with him across the river, leading them right into an ambush of crocodiles. “By the time we figured out what was going on, our brother was already in their jaws.”

“Where is she?” Tengwa kneaded the earth beneath her paws, her face twisted with fury.  _If she's still alive I'll rip her apart myself!_

“Last we saw she was on the other side of the river.” The male on the ground looked up at them with an irate expression. “Carrion-feeder didn't even say a word, just stood there and watched him drown.”

“We couldn't go after her, so we came back here.” The larger of the two lay down beside his brother. “Looks like the traitor kept you all in the dark, too. At least you know what's become of her now.”

Tengwa started to pace.  _She said she had a male waiting for her, one with markings beneath his eyes... cheetahs have those stripes!_ What had become of Mauja's own cubs? Had they starved for the spotted free-loader? Tengwa looked over at her cubs. Her anger spread like a wildfire in the dry season.  _She put them all in danger for a cheetah!_ Movement caught her eye and she turned to see Pamoja walk off.  _Where is she going? Off to pout because her perfect daughter betrayed us all? Wait..._ Her eyes narrowed and she followed her mother.  _I wonder if_ this _is why was so upset?_ She waited until they were out of earshot to call out.

Pamoja spun around, ears held backward, then her body language completely folded. Resignation filled every inch of her frame. “Dare I ask what you want?”

Tengwa cut straight to the chase. “You knew, didn't you? You knew she was –”

“Yes.” Pamoja kept her eyes on the ground. “I knew. I planned to tell the guards come nightfall.”

“WHY DIDN'T YOU DO AWAY WITH THE RAT THEN AND THERE?” Tengwa moved so she was toe-to-toe with her mother. “You could have prevented this. But no, your precious Ajamu-marked daughter meant more to you than every other cub in the pride.”

“Stop acting like a half-weaned cub.” Pamoja raised her head and locked eye contact. “If I had known for a second this would happen, I would have.”

Tengwa felt her claws slide out. “She sacrificed her own cubs for him, why does it surprise you she'd risk all of ours, too?”

“Hers were stillborn.” The words hung heavily in the air.

“That doesn't make it right.” Tengwa hated how much she sounded like the cub her mother often called her. “She's doomed them all. For a cheetah.”

Pamoja looked away again. “Males come and go, we always remain, and cubs not yet grown die. So it has always been and so it always will be.”

“You've cubs now, same as all of us.” Tengwa fought to keep her voice level. She would be the adult here, unlike her spoiled sister. “How can you just accept that they could die because of her?”

“It has not happened yet.” Pamoja sat down, a paw moving a pebble at her feet. “And no good has ever come from trying to eat prey not yet caught.”

 _Always treating me like a cub that hasn't seen the rains._ Tengwa growled, her tail lashing her sides.  _Acting like I don't know what I'm talking about._

“If it makes you feel any better, she'll likely lose him out there if she doesn't die herself.” Pamoja closed her eyes, her mouth curling into a frown. “Chasing cub's tales.”

“Cub's tales?” Tengwa tilted her head, her claws sliding back out of sight. Her eyes narrowed as she realized what that meant. “If she actually thinks Mahari's kin will take in a cheetah she's –”

“There's no 'Mahari', Tengwa!” Pamoja stood up and snarled. “Surely you can tell it's just a story told to make cubs that look different feel better?”

“Your precious Ajamu seemed to think it was real!”

Pamoja hung her head. “First Mauja, and now you, too? Ajamu is gone. Gone. Even if they would have taken him back – do you hear how foolish that sounds? – he never made it there.”

“Well know this, Mother.” Tengwa drew herself up to her full height. “If the guards fall because of Mauja's actions, I'll save at least  _one_  of my cubs. One is 'branded by Mahari's tears', and if I happen to find that cheetah-fostering traitor along the way, I'll make her pay for the lives sacrificed for her 'son'.”


	6. Chapter Six

“Stay low to the ground.” Mauja gently placed a paw upon Sigumba's back and guided him into position. “Feel the earth under your paws so it doesn't shift and make noise.”

The young cheetah, his long gray mane nearly gone, eagerly followed her directions. His paws kneaded the dirt under them. His mischievous smile grew as he locked his gaze on his target.

A few feet away, an elephant shrew scurried across the ground, looking for food. Its ears twitched along with its nose at every shift of the wind and every sound.

Mauja nodded toward it. “Take your time. Get as close as you can. Then strike.”

Sigumba took one step forward, then another. His tail twitched but didn't wave this time. He inched along the ground until he was about a foot away from his prey. He crouched, hind end twisting, then pounced. “Got ya!”

Only for the shrew to dodge and disappear into the tall grass.

“Shoot!” Sigumba picked himself up out of the dirt and shook, trying to get the dust off his coat. He glared after the rodent, tail tapping against the ground. “Stupid shrew!”

“Oh, yes.” Mauja came up beside him with a smile. “Very stupid to stay alive. Si, all hunters miss more than they catch, that's just how it is.”

“But I've missed _every_ time so far!” Sigumba pulled his ears back and looked at the ground. “It's not fair! I'm hungry!”

“I know, Si, I know.” Mauja nuzzled his cheek. “You can do this. Use your senses. There's more where that one came from.”

The cub nodded and closed his eyes. His nose twitched, as did his ears. After a few minutes, his eyes snapped open and he crouched once more.

Mauja watched him scurry along through the tall golden grass. _You can do this. I know you can._ She frowned. _You have to._

Sigumba crawled across the ground to the base of a tree. His ears pulled back. He focused on his target. He did the little shake and pounced.

“SQUAWK!” Gray feathers flew up into the air.

The scent of blood tickled Mauja's nose. Growls filled her ears and made her smile.

Sigumba stood up, a young bird in his mouth. He trotted over to her with a smug expression, then lay his catch at her feet. “I did it, Mama! I did it!”

“Yes, you did.” Mauja bumped noses with her son. “Well done.”

An ear-splitting screech filled the air and a gray blur dove for Sigumba.

Mauja lashed out, her paw knocking the much larger bird to the ground. She pounced, her teeth snapping through the body in seconds. Warm blood flowed into her mouth and she swallowed hard. Loud protests from the tree behind them made quite clear the relationship between her kill and her son's. “Come on.” She picked the larger bird up once more. “Let's get somewhere we can eat undisturbed.”

They settled in the shade of a large boulder and started on their meals.

Sigumba tore eagerly into his, bursting with pride at having made his first kill. His contented purring was like a cool dip on a hot day.

Mauja meanwhile picked at her meal. _What makes me any different than this parent? To keep my child alive, theirs had to die. Would I have not lashed out had someone attacked Sigumba?_ Finally, she pushed the bird over to her son. “I'm not hungry right now. Don't let it go to waste.” She lay her head on her paws and watched him eat. _At least he'll have more than milk in his belly now._

Her son was growing fast. At least it seemed that way, though one day often bled into the next in Mauja's memory. He still nursed, but she had got him on solid food as soon as possible. If he could just learn to hunt, he would have a chance if... _Don't think it!_ How did mothers do it? How did they just stand by when new males took over and let them end their cubs? Mauja could not imagine standing aside like that. _At least Mother and the others won't have to. Two males are more than enough to hold the territory._

 


	7. Chapter Seven

The scent of blood tainted every breath Tengwa took as she ran, her daughter dangling from her mouth. The distant roars behind them faded from rage to pain then fell silent.

“Mama will stop soon, right?” The cub's voice bounced with every jarring step her mother took. “Hide me somewhere and go back for my sisters? She has to! She has to save them, too!”

Tengwa skidded to a stop and opened her mouth, letting her daughter drop to the ground with a thump. “No, Hatarisha.” She growled softly as she looked back over her shoulder. “I'm not going back for your sisters. I can't carry more than one cub and –”

The look on her daughter's face said she hadn't realized she had spoken aloud. “But... But Mama!” She started to cry. “NO!”

“Would you rather have stayed and died with them?” Tengwa dug her claws into the ground. “ _You_ are the only one that has a chance of being taken in elsewhere.” Her tail lashed her sides. “Those damn dots on your face will grant you sanctuary, not your sisters.”

Hatarisha sniffled and rubbed her left paw against the markings. “So this is my fault?”

“No.” Tengwa growled. “If your aunt hadn't valued a cheetah over you and your sisters, then they could have grown up safe, and so could you. Now be quiet! There's no good crying over what can't be changed. We've got a long way to go.” She picked up the cub and started walking once more, following the lion in the stars as her father had taught her, and she had foolishly taught her sister.

She had thought her mother named Mauja “danger” because as a cub of the previous guard, she was _in_ danger. Now, she could only think how fitting its other meanings were. “Threat.” _At least Mother got one thing right._ Tengwa welcomed the cool balm of the night on her over-heated body. Her rage at being proven right combined with the exertion to escape with her Mahari-marked cub had her at a fever pitch. _Well, little sister, I hope you enjoy meeting your namesake._

Hatarisha. Jeopardize. A cruel smile curved her lips around her daughter's scruff. Her little girl would grow up knowing she was named for her aunt, and for her aunt's _actions._ Mauja was to blame for her troubles. Mauja put a cheetah cub above her own flesh and blood. Hatarisha would know all this and more, so if and when she finally met her aunt... there would be vengeance.

 


	8. Chapter Eight

A frustrated sigh from Sigumba. A pebble rolling across the ground. The faint swish of his tail beating against the grass they lay hidden within. Another sigh followed by the rumble of his empty stomach.

Mauja heard all this where she lay beside him in the shade of a large tree. She tried to sleep at least part of the day when they weren't hunting or on the move. But her fidgeting son was making any rest impossible. She cracked open one eye to check on him.

The young cheetah watched the shadows move across the ground. The moon had been full more times than he had paws, and he was growing fast.His nose twitched and he raised his head. He licked his jaws and stood up. His eyes darted to her way, and obviously fooled by her immobile state, he walked off.

She sat up to see what had caught his attention.  _Antelope,_ she thought, sighing in relief.  _It could have been worse._  She got up and followed him. _He shouldn't be going off on his own. But, if he can just make a kill..._ Hope fluttered in her chest. His inability to survive without her was a constant worry for the lioness.

The herd moved slowly across the golden savanna. They nibbled delicately on the tender grass, swiveling ears the only sign of attention to their surroundings. Now and then one lifted their head up and looked around, only to return to their meal seconds later. One lagged behind its fellows, a barely noticeable limp hampering its stride.

Sigumba set his sights on that one. He kept his body low as he'd been taught. He crawled across the ground, inching his way toward his chosen prey. He was right behind it when a loud  _crack_  broke the silence.

Every head in the herd shot up and looked around before they all bolted.

Mauja shook her head. She knew all too well the sound of a snapped twig. She headed toward him.  _I don't know if I should scold him or tell him it's okay._ Before she could decide Sigumba took off after his prey, barely managing to keep up with the antelope. Her walk became an all-out run as she struggled to catch up with him.

Sigumba was mere strides away and straining to close the gap when a yellow and black form darted out of the tall grass and cut him off. He skidded to a stop, just barely avoiding crashing into the newcomer.

Mauja's heart lodged in her throat.  _A cheetah!_ Her nose started working frantically.  _A female..._  She moved as fast as she could to close the distance.  _Wait... a lone cheetah... could maybe... be reasoned with?_ It was a thought worth exploring at least.

The stranger tripped up the antelope and latched her jaws around its throat. After a few futile kicks the antelope stopped moving, and the cheetah released her hold.

Once Sigumba caught his breath, he walked right up to the stranger and smiled. “Um, thanks for your help.”

“Help?” The cheetah looked up at him with a smirk. “Just what are you going on about?” She looked down at the antelope. “Oh, were you chasing this bugger? Tough break. Good hunting on your next try.” She started to drag the carcass off.

“HEY!” Sigumba rushed after her. “I would have had it if you hadn't came out of nowhere!”

She ignored him and kept walking.

“Oh come on!” Sigumba was right on the new cheetah's heels. “At least share!”

Mauja shook her head at her son's stubbornness. Her lip curled when she saw the new cheetah spin around.

The she-cheetah dropped the kill between her and Sigumba. “Share? Are you outta your mind? Didn't your mother teach you how things work?” She narrowed her eyes. “Females only share with their cubs.” She looked him up and down. “And don't insult me by saying you could be my cub.”

Mauja was behind the other female faster than she thought possible.  _Don't talk to my son like..._ Mauja took a deep breath.  _I can't scare her if I want her to listen to me._ She cleared her throat.

Sigumba folded his ears then smirked. “Hi, Mom.”

The female cheetah turned around and her eyes almost popped out of her skull. “Wait – what?” She dug her claws into the dirt and started to bolt.

Mauja pinned the other female faster than a cobra strike.  _So much for not frightening her._  Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her son. “Don't 'hi, mom' me, cub. Get the carcass and come on. You're drawing attention to yourselves like idiots.” She took the female cheetah's scruff between her teeth, careful not to break the skin. She waited until Sigumba picked up the kill before heading back to their hiding place.

The female cheetah struggled to get free. “Put me down! Let me go! Who do you think you are? Look, just let me go you can have the dang kill! LET ME GO!”

Once they stepped back into the shade, Mauja put one paw down hard on the female cheetah's tail before releasing her scruff. “Ma'am, I apologize for the rough treatment.” She fought to keep her voice level. “I'd like to speak with you, but first I need to have a word with my son.” She looked over at Sigumba. “What have I told you about going off on your own? Or talking to strangers? You know how dangerous it is!”

Sigumba dropped the kill and crouched low, folding his ears back. “I... Mom I just thought I could catch something real quick. I was hungry, and I thought I could help!”

“You were impatient and reckless.” Mauja's tail lashed. “How am I to protect you if you won't use common sense?”  _Creator, give me patience!_

“I... I'm sorry.” Sigumba hung his head. “It won't happen again, Mom.”

_Oh, son..._ Mauja kept her tone and face stern, even as she longed to comfort him. “It had better not.”

The female cheetah looked from one to the other and back again. “Whoa, hold on! 'Son'? 'Mom'? Did I hear that right?”

“You did.” Mauja looked the female cheetah in the eye. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, of course not.” The cheetah's nervous grin would have given her away even if she wasn't reeking of fear. “Just curious, that's all. I mean, you don't see a cheetah call a lioness 'mom' everyday.”

“I am Mauja.” She looked over at Sigumba. “And my reckless son is Sigumba.” She returned her gaze to the other cheetah and forced a smile. “May I ask your name?”

“Kiwara.” The cheetah's expression became suspicious. “Look, you can have the antelope. But I'd really like to go, please.”

“That would hardly be fair.” Mauja lifted her paw from the she-cheetah's tail. “As you  _did_  make the kill. I saw that much.” She kept her eyes on the other female even as she addressed her son. “Sigumba, go ahead and eat please? I'd like to have a grown up conversation with Miss Kiwara.”

“Yes, Mom.” Sigumba turned his back on them and tore into the kill.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Kiwara asked as she stood and put a few strides between them.

Mauja took a deep breath. “I need your help.”


	9. Chapter Nine

“Say what now?”

Mauja frowned and her ears pulled back. “I admit this is a bit strange. Then again, nothing's been normal since I took him in.”

“That's the only reason I'm hearing you out. Why is a lioness raising a cheetah?” Kiwara sat down and tilted her head. “Usually we're lucky if one of your 'guards' don't kill us.”

“To put it simply.” Mauja sat down as well. “His mother wasn't lucky, and my cubs were stillborn.” She took a deep breath and told Kiwara how she had found Sigumba, and how she had left her pride. “I figured it was just a matter of teaching him all I know. But as he's grown older, I've been forced to realize that I can only teach him to be a lion. And my son he may be...” She could feel the sadness on her face as she looked over at the eating half-grown cub. “A lion he is not.”

Kiwara twisted her mouth. “So just what has that got to do with me?”

Mauja locked eye contact with the other female. “I would like to make a deal with you. I'll share my kills, help defend yours, if you'll teach him what he needs to know to survive without me.”

“Yeah, defend... you're doing great with that.” Kiwara tapped her tail against the ground. “Surprised you don't want to keep him with you. You pride-minded lions are all about sticking together.”

Mauja looked at her paws. “Males come and go, so the saying goes. I cannot stay with him forever regardless. Old age will do me in if life itself does not, hopefully not before it does him.” She looked up, feeling like a cub pleading to go and play. “I need to make sure he can survive without me. He needs to be prepared for that. Please, help me help him.”

“Let's see if I got this straight.” Kiwara stood up and started pacing. “I teach him what he should've learned already. You share your kills, guard mine. That mean I gotta share  _mine_  with  _you_?”

“No.” Mauja tapped her tail against the ground. “That would be foolish. You can't bring down the larger prey I can, even without a pride. The only person you'd have to share with is Sigumba,  _if_  he helps you hunt as he did this time.” She shook her head “He still has a lot to learn. I was right behind him the second he took off, and he never noticed.”

“So you aren't as ...” Kiwara trailed off, her eyes and scent briefly betraying her fear. “Anyway, I can try, but I can't make any promises. He's starting out at a disadvantage to start with. Usually, he'd have brothers to hang with.” She rolled her eyes. “Males are almost as pride-minded as you lions.”

“Is there something wrong with living in a pride?” Rather than defend her kind's ways, Mauja found herself saying what she had often thought. “I've wondered before why others don't unitize it. It makes things so much easier.”

“Does it?” Kiwara stopped short, her tail swishing. “If I decide to do something, I don't have to hide it to do it. I just do. I ain't gotta ask permission, or see if anyone else agrees with me. If I wanted to, say, adopt a lion cub I dang well could without any more trouble than I would with my own.”

“I suppose you have a point there.” Mauja lightly tapped her paw against the ground. “I realize Sigumba likely has as much to unlearn as he does to learn. Still, he's my son and I have to make sure he'll have a chance without me.”

“Anyone else woulda tossed him in a river by now or worse.” Kiwara's tail twitched. Her ears folded. “OK, deal. I'll  _try_. But if it ain't workin' out, then I'm gone. You'll have to find another sap.”

Mauja smiled. “That sounds like a fair arrangement to me. Why don't you join Sigumba? I'll see if I can get something for myself.” She got up and started off. “Thank you.”

Kiwara turned and headed for the carcass. “Don't. Thank me when I pull it off.”


	10. Chapter Ten

“So when do I get to see you two in action?”

Mauja looked over at Kiwara. “In action?”

Kiwara rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to teach him anything if I don't know what I have to un-teach? You hunt together, right? How's that work?”

“Mom gets ahead of the herd, and I spook 'em.” Sigumba strutted with a grin. “If I can get close enough, I trip the prey and Mom strangles it.” He folded his ears. “Doesn't work all the time, though.”

“Gonna go out on a limb here.” Kiwara stepped ahead of the lioness and younger cheetah. “That hunt earlier was the first one you've attempted on your own, right?”

“So what if it was?”

“Sigumba, be still.” Mauja nodded as they walked through the tall grass. “He's made a few smaller kills on his own, but I wasn't sure if he was ready to try for a larger one.”

“Then we'll add that to the list next stop.” Kiwara squinted up at the sun. “Speaking of which, since when do lions wander around during the day like this? Ain't you night hunters?”

Mauja smiled. “You just answered your own question. I want to avoid other lions, thus I travel when they are least likely to be up and around.”

“Right. So next question.” Kiwara looked Sigumba up and down. “Can he fight?”

Sigumba stopped short, growling as his tail lashed. “Why don't you try and see for yourself?”

“Geez, you're a spunky brat, ain't ya?” Kiwara clicked her tongue. She stopped as well, turning to face him. “I asked 'cause I'm supposed to teach ya how to stand on your own paws. Kinda hard to do that if you can't defend yourself.”

“I taught him to run.” Mauja hung her head. “He's so small... he wouldn't stand a chance with most if he did fight back.”

“Great plan. Only problem is he's not always gonna have that option.”

Sigumba cleared his throat. “You know, I'm standing right here. I'm young not stupid!”

Kiwara smirked. “Is that so? OK, kid, then –”

“Sigumba.” He growled again. “Not 'kid', not 'he'. Sigumba.”

“Oh-kay.” Kiwara sighed and swished her tail. “Let's see what ya got, Sigumba.” She crouched. “Give me your best.”

Sigumba looked over at Mauja, then crouched as well. He started circling the other cheetah.

Kiwara stayed with him, never letting him get behind her.

After a few minutes of this, Sigumba snarled. “Will you stop doing that? How am I supposed to get a blow in if you keep turning to face me?”

“You think an opponent is just gonna give you an opening? Naw, they'll...” Kiwara slammed to the ground. She shook her head and looked up into Sigumba's irate face.

“They'll wait until you're bragging and knock some sense into you?” Sigumba dodged the paw swung at him. “Or just talk you to death?”

“You've got spunk, kid.” Kiwara rolled out of reach and came up with a grin. “But spunk makes you take risks.” She side-stepped his next strike. “And risks make you vulture food.”

“Fighting is a risk, isn't it?” Sigumba skidded and spun back around. “So there's no point in this.”

“You little flea!”

Dust rose as the pair tumbled in the brown earth. The green-gold grass was no match for their combined weight and a small clearing quickly took form around them.

Mauja sat down. “Could this wait until we're reasonably safe? You two keep this up, you'll attract every predator within ear-shot.”

Kiwara took advantage of Sigumba's distraction at the lioness's words. She tripped him up and pinned him, then looked down at him with a smirk. “Never take your eyes off your opponent.” She leaped off to the side. “Though your 'mama' is right. I wasn't too bright of me to start that out in the open.”

“Mom knows more than you.” Sigumba got to his paws, hackles still up and tail lashing. “Maybe you should listen to her, instead of dismissing her as a 'pride-minded fool'.”

“There's no need to defend me, son.” Mauja started walking again. “Some of the 'pride-minded' are fools, after all.”

“Surprised to hear ya admit it.” Kiwara kept Sigumba between her and Mauja even so. “This might not be as hard as I thought.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Tall grass, tall grass, and more tall grass._ Hatarisha followed behind her mother. At this point, her body seemed to have a mind of its own.  _Good thing too, I'm so tired I can barely concentrate. How does Mother do it?_

Tengwa marched ahead of her daughter. The elder lioness's ears twisted with every sound, and her nose was in constant motion. If she was feeling the strain of their travels, she didn't show it.

Hatarisha had seen the full moon several times. Any memory of peace and safety was long faded. She was not a cub anymore, and truly hadn't been since the day the guards had fallen. Always in danger, at risk.  _I am Hatarisha._ She bit back the growl that came with that thought.  _Thank you, Aunt Mauja!_ Her tail lashed.  _Destroyer-serving traitor!_

How many times had she heard her mother explain? Likely more than there were stars above her. And even now, Hatarisha could not fully understand. Why would a lioness put a stranger's cub – a cub not even a lion for Creator's sake – before her own flesh and blood? She hoped that they would meet her aunt. She wanted answers. But right then she wanted to stop.

“We can't stop, and you know it.” Tengwa glared back over her shoulder. “And you need to stop speaking every thought that runs through your head. Silence is our only ally out here.”

Hatarisha held back the growl that rose in her chest by sheer force of will. “Yes, Mother.” No good could come of confronting the older lioness. She could not survive without her just yet.

Tengwa stopped short. She flattened herself against the ground and motioned for her daughter to do the same.

On her belly in the rough, itchy dirt, Hatarisha strained her senses for what her mother had found.  _I hope it's not another pride..._ She shivered at the memory.  _I don't think we'll make it out alive..._ She had learned the hard way that lone females, even lone cubs, were not welcome outside their birth pride.

Twisted laughter filled the air. Hunched over shapes moved, darkness on shadow, impossible to see but for their eyes catching the moonlight. The stench of death and decay drifted on the wind.

She shivered as her traitorous heart began to beat double-time. The blood pounded in her ears as her fear rose.  _Hyenas!_

The laughter gave way to powerful roars. At least four sets of eyes appeared out of the darkness. Snarls mixed with yelps and roars of pain and fresh blood tainted the air.

Hatarisha rolled to the side as the bent-back predators rushed past her and her mother, so intent on escape they didn't even look at the lionesses crouched like frightened cubs in the dirt.

“Come on.” Tengwa's words were a low hiss as she nudged her daughter and started crawling away. “We're lucky they have those carrion-feeders' meal to hold their attention.”

Hatarisha followed, her claws digging into the earth as she pulled herself along.  _Carrion-feeders? Wasn't that their kill?_  If hyenas were just carrion-eating scavengers, then how come she had seen them take down prey on their own? Hidden in nooks between boulders, hollow logs and even tall grass, she had seen lions chase the misshapen predators from their kills more than once.  _Maybe..._ Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her teeth together to make sure she kept her thoughts to herself.  _Mother doesn't always tell the truth._


	12. Chapter Tweleve

Nightfall brought a welcome relief to the trio of travelers. Mauja curled up in the branches of a tall acacia tree, tail dangling off the side. She rested her head on her paws. The impassive stars winked at her from their home in the sky.

Sigumba curled up at the base of the tree. He stared at his fore-paws, tapping them against the dusty earth. “So... how come my mane fell out?”

“You talkin' to me?” Kiwara flopped a few feet away and closed her eyes. “What, you actually wanted a heavy bush stuck around your neck?”

A low growl rumbled in Sigumba's throat. “Why are you such a jerk? Lions aren't  _that_  bad.”

“Then why are you being raised by one, hmm? Why ain't you in the pride with the other cubs?”

“I outta smack you!” Sigumba's growl grew louder. “I know about that, but not all lions are bad! And they aren't all wrong either!”

“Cheetahs don't have manes. Males would overheat if they did. Explains why lions barely move during the day.” Kiwara stretched, but kept her eyes tightly shut. “Kid, you're defending lions based on one of 'em. Your 'mom' might not be a major burr under the fur, but she's the first I've met that wasn't.”

“I appreciate that glowing complement.” Mauja glanced down at the pair. “I'm planning on sleeping tomorrow, so if you want to take him hunting, you're welcome to go.” Her eyes locked on her son. “But right now, you need to get some rest. Or at least ask your questions quietly.”

“Fine.” Sigumba curled his nose. He dropped his voice to a hiss. “What did lions ever do to you? Or are all cheetahs self-centered, insulting bullies?”

“You're doing it again, kid.” Kiwara opened one eye and smirked. “You judge all lions on one example, and now you're judging all cheetahs on mine. That ain't too bright, ya know.”

“My name's Sigumba!”

“Kiwara...” Mauja growled low in her throat. “He's a cub still. Don't treat him as less than you for lacking experience.”

Kiwara acted as if neither had spoken. “I get I'm nothing to you, kid, but your 'mom' put me in charge of making sure you can stand on all four feet. I don't need you sassing me. Now, what have lions ever done to me? Let's see, I've lost about half my kills, for starters.”

“But lions can hunt!” Sigumba half-stood up. “And what we can bring down isn't even a meal. Why would a lion steal a cheetah's kill?”

“Why do they steal the kills of those laughing maniacs?” Kiwara sat up. Her tail tapped against the ground like an irate house cat's. “Same reason I'll run off a jackal if I can. Or eat whatever scraps I come across. Less effort means more energy when I need it.” She looked up at Mauja. “Am I wrong?”

Mauja looked away and folded her ears. Her tail swished a few minutes before she answered. “No.”

“But...” Sigumba folded his ears. “You just said you steal too. So what makes it okay for you, but not for lions?”

Kiwara took a deep breath. “If you're going to be defending lions and lion ways the whole time, this is going to be an uphill battle. Maybe there's nothing wrong with 'em, but we ain't lions. We can't live like 'em.” Once more she looked up at Mauja. “If we could, you wouldn't need my help, kid.”

“Sigumba.” Mauja barely raised her voice to correct the other female.  _So much the same, so much different._ She had never felt anything one way or another for cheetahs. And though her son had some obvious differences, she had never questioned if her kind's ways were the best ones. “Use his name.”

“Fine. Look, Si, figure out what questions ya got, and I'll answer 'em tomorrow, OK?” Kiwara stretched then curled up again. “It's been a long day and I'm dead tired. Good night.”

Sigumba curled his lip. He looked up at Mauja and folded his ears under her stern gaze. “Night, Mom.” He curled back up and closed his eyes. “Kiwara.” His tone was far from friendly.

“Sleep well.” Mauja lay awake long after the two cheetahs had fallen asleep. Sigumba and Kiwara got along about as well as she could turn into one of the Creator's Favorites.  _Am I doing the right thing? Trusting my son's training to a stranger?_ She dug her claws into the branch.  _What other choice do I have? I already failed as a mother once..._ She turned her eyes to the stars.  _Creator, please. Don't let me fail him too. Please..._ She swallowed hard.  _By Seeonee, I beg you for mercy. Let him live! Please!_

Sigumba stirred, soft chirps slipping from him. His legs jerked with whatever dream held him in its claws. The sounds grew familiar, matching his early cries when she left him alone.

Mauja slipped down the tree and landed beside her son. Careful not to wake him, she curled around him. She licked his shoulder slowly until his moments and cries ceased. “It's OK.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “It's okay, Mama's here.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

“Are you ever going to explain what's wrong with being 'pride-minded'?”

Kiwara walked alongside Sigumba through the tall grass in Mauja's wake. She looked sideways at the half-grown cub and shook her head. “Not sure ya wanna hear it, but when I was still cutting my milk-teeth, my mom told me this story.”

Mauja's ears flicked backward, showing she too was listening.

Kiwara grinned.  _Time to give these fools a wake up call._ “Once upon a time, cheetahs lived in groups. But not groups like lions – males stayed with males, females with females. The groups only came together to court and breed, then went they own ways. Usually the groups were even in number, and though they lived apart, there was love between the mates. Male cubs would be sent to live with their fathers once weaned, to learn and one day leave and form their own group.”

“Wait.” Sigumba tilted his head to the side. “So cheetahs lived in prides? Only... prides of just males and just females?” He looked so confused.

Kiwara had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “Pretty much I guess. Then one day, a fresh group of females came up on a group of males. The males each courted the females, trying to find the one they fit with best. One by one, they paired off, or so it seemed. You see, one of the males chose to claim  _all_  the females. His brothers didn't believe he could, but he said to watch and see. He courted each when they were alone, feeding them his lies. Each female thought he had chosen her, and so turned down any advances from the others.”

Mauja's tail swished as she slowed her pace, but she said nothing.

“He'd have been able to continue the trick had not one of the females came up him with one of her sisters.” Kiwara grinned at the look on Sigumba's face. “The female flew into a rage, attacking her sister for trying to steal her mate. Only for the sister to shout that he was her mate, he had chosen her. The pair quickly figured out who was to blame, but by then the male and his brothers were long gone.”

“COWARD!” Sigumba growled, his tail lashing at his sides. “Running away after misleading everyone. Carrion-eating coward!”

Kiwara glanced at Mauja out of the corner of her eye.  _Kid don't get that could apply to his mom, too, I guess._

The lioness's ears were pinned against her head but she didn't turn around.

“Yeah well.” Kiwara scuffed a paw as she walked, no longer sure telling this story was a good thing. Her voice and tone became more her mother's. “With no one to take their anger out on, the sisters turned on one another, each blaming the other for being so blind. In the end, they chose to separate. Never again would they trust another female, and never again would they give their hearts away. Love was for fools, and cubs until they were grown.

“Ever since, males remain together, laughing at how easy females are to fool.” Kiwara kept her eyes on her paws, her own ears folded. “And females live alone save when they have cubs to raise, shaking their heads that males don't know they see right through them.”

Sigumba was quiet for awhile, save a few soft growls. “Males sound stupid.”

“They are.” Kiwara dared to smirk. “Now you're catching on.”

“I'm not stupid, though.” The younger cheetah skipped to Mauja's side. “Are... male lions like that?”

Majua didn't answer at first. Her tail swished. Her ears folded and unfolded. "Love is for mothers, sisters and daughters.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Males come and go.” A slight choke. “We always remain." She stopped and looked the cheetah cub in the eye. “My mother taught me that as much as Kiwara's did that story. Male lions are guards, they kill everything that trespasses or drive it away. I...” She looked at her paws. “Mother and my aunts spoke well of my father, but I don't know.”

_Do I lick the wound?_ Kiwara tilted her head. She looked down at Sigumba, who looked stunned.  _I guess this never came up before. Or she really sees him differently._ She snorted softly.  _Yeah, right. If she did she wouldn't have me tryin' to teach him how to stand on his own._  “Don't sweat it, kid. Males might be a few branches short of a tree, but they are clever enough to get by at least.”

“Do...” Sigumba ignored her, looking up at Mauja hopefully. “Do lions stay apart too? I mean, if you're not around them, you wouldn't know if they were smart or not. Those ones back home were smart enough to find us, right?”

Mauja sighed. “Males stay apart except to breed, eat, and sometimes help hunt. Even Mother admitted there wasn't much point in getting to know them, since they get ran out eventually.”

“Ran out?” Kiwara sped up until she was right beside the lioness. “Wait if they're guards, why would ya drive 'em off?” She scrunched up her face.  _“Males come and go.” Seriously? Logic failure._

“We don't, no.” Mauja curled her lip with a slight growl. “Outside males challenge the guards now and then. They win, they become the new guards, and the old males leave. If they aren't killed.”

“And you all just let it happen?” Kiwara shook her head as if that would help this make sense. “I mean, if you stood with 'em they could stay until they died of old age.”

Mauja stopped short and sat down. “Kiwara, if males stay too long then...” She sighed, her claws siding in and out and digging at the dirt. “We have stories too. One says that once there was a pride where all cubs stayed for life. Males only left when they were defeated and replaced by their sons. But that led to the males breeding with their daughters. Their sisters. And in time cubs started being born... wrong.” She looked down at her paws and nudged a pebble aside. “In time the pride died out. We don't know why, but if guards stay longer than a litter or two, cubs have problems.”

Kiwara folded her ears. Her tail lashed at her sides before she turned around and started walking. “All this jabber's worked up an appetite. Hope you're ready Si. Time to learn to hunt cheetah style.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The herd of antelope walked idly through the yellowed landscape. Their teeth tore up mouth fulls of grass that stuck out on either side of their muzzles like whiskers.

“Keep yourself low and – ”

Sigumba scowled. “I know about staying low, OK?” His voice was a hiss. “Mom isn't as hopeless as you think. Sheesh. Stay low, don't make noise, get as close as you can and pounce.”

Kiwara sighed and folded her ears. “Half-right at least. You get as close as you can then rush them. The herd scatters and you go for your mark. If you get close enough you can run them down, trip them up and go for the nose or throat.” She scanned the herd, her nose twitching as she took in the scents. “You gotta cut off the air. They stop moving quick enough and you can catch your breath.”

“And this is cheetah-style, how?” Sigumba kneaded the dirt beneath his paws. “That sounds like what Mom and I do all the time, anyway.”

Kiwara's smirk got on his nerves. “Oh really? Then go out there bring one down. Since you already know what you're doing.”

He sniffed. “I will.” He crawled forward, breathing in the scents of the herd. Illness tickled his nose and he locked his eyes on the member that bore it. Step by step he made his way toward his prey. So caught up in their grazing were the antelope, that not one noticed as he slipped among them.  _Almost... there!_ Sigumba leaped out of the grass onto his prey.

The antelope screamed in fear. It reared onto its hind legs and threw the cheetah cub to the ground.

Startled by the sudden sight of a hunter among them, the herd scattered like leaves in the breeze. Dust rose as they fled, turning the whole area into it dirt cloud.

Sigumba coughed and dodged the terrified antelope.  _I can't see!_ He sneezed.  _Or smell!_ He had lost track of his prey. After a few times spinning away from hooves that were sensed not seen, he wasn't even sure which way he was facing. Pain shot through his side and he rolled across the ground, screaming for his mother. The ground shook with the pounding of hooves and he curled into a ball, cries tearing from his throat. “MAMA!”

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Kiwara's voice came from right in front of him. “The herd's already on the other side of the savanna by now. And that little cut's nothing to cry about anyway.”

Sigumba looked up, opening eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed. He hissed. “Says you! It hurts!”

“Yeah, it hurts.” Kiwara gave him a sweet smile. “You want me to get Mommy so she can kiss it all better?” She didn't wait for an answer. Her paw lashed out and smacked him right upside the head. “I hate to break it to you, but since you ain't got brothers, you're all you got. Even if you were  _my_  cub I wouldn't be coddling you. Shake it off, kid, life sucks sometimes but you freezin' like this just makes you a target. You're lucky that little cut's all you got.”

“That's enough!” Mauja stepped up beside Kiwara. She nudged her back with her shoulder, standing between him and the female cheetah. “What just happened? You're supposed to be teaching him, not putting him in danger.” Her muzzle curled and her voice was just short of a growl. “Or striking him.”

Sigumba grinned as he looked at Kiwara from behind his mother.  _Serves you right, you bully._

Kiwara stepped back and folded her ears for a moment. Her gaze went to him and she curled her lip. “Look that kid's too sure of himself for his own good. And you comin' to his rescue all the time ain't helping him. You want me to teach him to stand on his own? Well, you're gonna have to  _let him_.”

“I am –”

“No, you're not.” Kiwara shot him another stern look. “You didn't wait three heartbeats before you were over here in my face. I get he's not an adult yet, OK? But he's not a milk-fed cub anymore either.” She drew herself up to her full height, her tail lashing her sides. “He got hurt because  _you_  filled his head with this notion he can just sneak up on something and kill it. That might work with birds, but not animals with hooves and horns.”

Sigumba stood up, wincing at the wound on his side. He growled. “Mom's not stupid! Quit acting like she  _is_!”

Kiwara stared him straight in the eye. “Quit making her look stupid then. What did you expect to happen, Little Expert Hunter? There's a reason you cut your prey from the herd  _first_.” She growled softly. “So you don't get caught up like that.”

Sigumba folded his ears.  _I... Am I?_ He hung his head as he thought it over.  _Am I making Mom look bad? It's..._ He made  _hmph_ sound.  _Well, not like she warned me in the first place._

His mother echoed his thoughts. “Why didn't you tell him that, then?” Mauja growled as well, her claws digging into the dirt beneath them. “Why let him make a mistake that could get him killed?”

Kiwara snorted. “He's not going to listen to me. He doesn't trust me, not with stuff that matters. I don't blame him either, he doesn't know me like he does you. Only way he's going to learn is by experience.” She tilted her head. “Unless maybe now he'll believe I know what I'm talking about.”

Mauja curled her lip. She looked at Sigumba, then at Kiwara. “You don't have to be –” The lioness stopped short. “Never mind.” She shook her head and walked off.

“You hurt her feelings.” Sigumba growled softly. “Why do you have to be so mean?”

“Because I want you alive.” Kiwara frowned. “You're stubborn, you react too quick when you're mad, and you're a spoiled brat. Your mom wants you able to make it if something happens to her. I can't get you there if you don't listen, and you only listen when I'm spitting venom.” She curled her lip again. “So if you want nice, start listening to it.” She turned on her heels and started walking. “Now come on, we have to find another herd. And this time we do it my way.”

_It's not about what she wants._ Sigumba folded his ears.  _It's about showing Mom I'll be OK. And showing that snake Mom's not an idiot._ He followed Kiwara, wincing at the pain his wound caused as he moved. “Yes, ma'am.” He forced his tone to be polite. She wanted nice? Fine, he'd play nice.  _For Mom. I can do this. I will do this!_ He looked at where Mauja walked well ahead of them.  _Promise._


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Mauja forced herself to keep walking, though her ears swirled back to catch Kiwara's scolding. She tried to tell herself this what Sigumba needed. If he couldn't make it without her...  _But she doesn't have to be so harsh with him._

_You mean she doesn't have to act like your sister._

_Same thing._ Mauja climbed the first tree she came to. She shoved her body through the branches and stretched out on the thickest limb she could reach. She scanned the savanna until she spotted the cheetahs. She rested her head on her paws.  _Stay where you are, and let her do her job._

It was easier to think than do. There was nothing more she wanted than to leap from her place and shield her son from the harsh methods the elder cheetah employed.

“ _Stop messing around! If you would just apply yourself, we would have no problems bringing down something. Get your act together!”_

* * *

 

“I'm trying!” Mauja's muscles were sore and ached with every move she made. Having only seen the rains once, she knew her skills were nowhere near the precision of her elder sister.  _I don't need reminded every few breaths._

“Really?” Tengwa curled her lip and stalked passed her. “Perhaps my vision's failing. Looked to me like you were going through the motions in hope of others doing your work for you.”

“Tengwa that's enough!” Pamoja stalked through the tall grass and stood between her daughters. “She's still learning. It wasn't that long ago when you were in her place. Show some sympathy.”

“I'm sorry, Mother, but sympathy won't fill our bellies.” She looked at Mauja and narrowed her eyes. “Come on, cub. If we move quickly we might be able to catch up with the herd.”

Mauja just nodded. She followed at their mother's heels. Her eyes stayed on her paws. Shame filled every fiber of her body. She couldn't bear to look at her litter mates. One sister judging her useless was more than enough.  _Why can't I get this right?_  More importantly, why was she trying? Nothing she did was ever good enough for Tengwa.  _I could likely make the kill myself and she'd still say I did it wrong. I should be used to it by now._  Her empty belly growled and she knew better than to complain.  _“We're all hungry. If you could just move a little faster, we'd have eaten by now.”_  She knew her sister's words by heart. She sighed.  _Creator, what I'd give for her to just once be nice._

* * *

 

“Good job!”

Mauja came back to the present at Kiwara's shout. Her ears flicked forward and a smile broke across her face.  _He... He did it!_

Sigumba held an antelope's throat tight between his jaws. After a few more heartbeats, he dropped it and grinned. “That was fun! Too bad we can't do it again...” He swished his tail. “Can we eat now?”

“Catch your breath first.” Kiwara smiled. She reached down and dragged the kill into the shade of Mauja's tree. “Never eat when you're trying to breathe. You can choke yourself a good one.”

Sigumba lay down beside the kill. He nodded. His sides were still heaving.

“You see your boy make his first take down?” Kiwara grinned. “Kid might actually be a good hunter when we're through.”

“Did ya see, Mama?”

The pride on her son's face made her instantly regret her trip into the past. Mauja folded her ears. “I'm afraid it all happened too fast, son. I blinked and there you stood.”

Kiwara laughed. “Well, next time, don't blink.”


	16. Chapter Sixteen

A loud crack shattered the silence of the night. Hatarisha closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She could feel the broken branch beneath her paw.  _Perfect!_ She swore under her breath. She braced herself for the inevitable.

“For Creator's sake, cub!” Her mother spun around with a snarl. “You were named properly. You're as poor a hunter as that cheetah-fostering traitor.” She swatted the shards of crumbled wood aside. “How many times must I tell you to step lightly? To put your toes down first and feel if there's anything underfoot that might give you away? Do you  _like_ going hungry?  _Do you?_ ”

“No, Mother.” Hatarisha ducked her head, ears flat against her skull. “I'm sorry Mother.” She kept her eyes on her paws. “At... at least... maybe Aunt Mauja's starved by now, since she can't hunt.”

Tengwa curled her lip with narrowed eyes. “The Creator would not be so kind.” Her ears flicked as she turned on her heel. “Don't just stand there, fool. Get a move on.”

Hatrisha fell into step behind her mother. Now and then, she glanced up at the “Lion in the Stars”. She had to squint to even see it as such.  _It sounds too good to be true._ She knew she was not as wise in the ways of the world as her mother, but the story she had been told did not make sense.

Just what powers had Mahari bargained for so long ago? And if her descendants possessed those same powers, why had Hatarisha not shown signs of being any different than her unmarked mother? What awaited in “Mahari's land”? A place of peace, rest and safety, if the song that was their only guide was to be believed. But how could such a place exist? If lions like her and her aunt traveled to this place, did that mean there was a pride waiting? That would make sense. _Living outside a pride is almost impossible, so there_ must _be a pride._ Her ears folded back.  _Surely they wouldn't all try and live alone in the same land._

Tengwa stopped short in front of her. The lioness's lip curled in a disgusted snarl as her tail whipped back and forth. “Well, well.”

Hatarisha just managed to catch herself before she walked into her mother. She moved up alongside her, ears pinned flat against her skull. “What is it?”

“If you used your nose as much as your mouth you wouldn't need to ask.”

She took the hint and sniffed hard. Her mouth fell open and she strained forward. “It... how...?”

The scent trail was not fresh, but it was clear as moonlight on water. A lioness had passed through here –  _trailed by a cheetah_.

Tengwa raised a paw and slashed her claws through the scents on the ground, then flicked the dirt away. “It appears we found my dear baby sister and her 'son'.” Her lip curled again. “Now all we have to do is catch up... and reacquaint ourselves, hmm?”

A low growl rumbled in Hatarisha's chest. She committed the scent to memory. This scent... because of this scent she had suffered, her sisters had died. For this cheetah. “I can hardly wait.”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

“No way, I'm faster.”

“You sure about that, Si?” Kiwara looked back and allowed a smug smile to grow across her face.

The young cheetah's head was just at her shoulder. His eyes shined with the confidence his stride advertised. “Positive.”

The once lush green that had surrounded them had long given way to brown. The dry season was just beginning. Dust kicked up with every footstep they took.

Kiwara dug her claws into the earth. “Prove it then.” She tore off into the distance. “Catch me if you can!”

“Hey!” protested Sigumba. He scrambled to get moving. “No fair. No head starts.”

“Creator,” muttered Mauja to herself as she trailed behind the pair. She felt a small smile shift her face. “You'd think she was the cub.” The competitive nature the two cheetahs shared often had her shaking her head in amusement.

Sigumba stretched his limbs to the limits of their length. His strides ate up the distance between him and Kiwara. He was at the tip of her tail after a few breaths.

Kiwara began to zig-zag across the savanna, taking the sharpest twists she could. She leaped over a fallen tree and just barely managed to clear it, her back claws scraping the bark.

Sigumba circled the log instead of risking the leap, losing ground. Then he skidded sideways and turned around with a snarl.

A green-gray snake shot out of the log toward the cub. It reared and hissed, matching the cub's fury.

The mid-day heat disappeared in a chill of terror. Mauja stared, fighting to get her body to move. Her mind flashed to cubhood and her mother's warning to never challenge a snake.

A blur almost the color of the dirt itself leaped out of the log and slammed into the snake just behind the head. Predator and prey swung back and forth across the ground in a cloud of dust.

“Si get over here!” Kiwara's voice dripped with scorn. “Don't be a pride-minded fool!”

“I'm  _not_ ,” snapped the younger cheetah. He turned on his heel and in a burst of speed closed the distance between them. “You...” His nose twitched. “Oh, were you...” He smirked. “Worried?”

“Your nose works just fine,” snapped Kiwara. “So don't ask dumb questions.” She turned her back on them both. “Come on, let's get out of here before any more mambas show up.”

Mauja felt her heart start beating in her chest again.  _Thank the Creator!_  Her eyes darted back to the snake.

A large mongoose gripped the now-dead snake in its jaws. Its tail twitched a few times before it darted off into the grass.

“You coming, Mom?” Sigumba folded his ears. His tail twitched. “Watch out, there might be more.”

“Be right there, son.” She gave the log a wide berth and headed over to join the cheetahs. She could smell the fear coming off Kiwara, bitter in comparison to her own. Her ears folded back and she frowned.  _I almost lost him. Again._


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Koray Birenheide for the review of Chapter One. Look them up, you won't regret it.

That evening Mauja watched the shadows as moonlight chased them across the savanna. Her ears twitched at the hissing wind through the grass.  _It seems I am always spending my nights in trees questioning fate._ A sigh heaved from her chest. Her eyes drifted down and burned with the emotions that swirled inside.

Her son lay fast asleep, obvious to her turmoil. Sigumba's sweet face, curled up in a smile, tugged at her heart.

She remembered his first hunt with Kiwara. He could have been trampled then and there. She remembered the guards. She had barely reached him in time.

_My son. My_ stolen _son._ Mauja dug her claws into the branch beneath her.  _I was not meant to be a mother, was I? And he was not meant to live. I stole him from death, so death keeps trying to claim him. How much longer before it wins?_

He had come so far. Half the kills the cheetahs made, Sigumba himself dealt the final blow. He was nearly grown. It would not be long before he outran Kiwara.

But what if he did not live to see that day? What if fate never stopped trying until it finally righted the wrong she had done? Or worse, what if the next time didn't kill him but made it impossible for him to survive on his own?

_You should end him yourself, rather than waiting for fate to do it. Surely you would be gentler than whatever accident fate has in store. Do it. If you truly love him, don't let him suffer._

She looked down again. Her son slept so peacefully. It would take only one quick bite. If she was quick enough, he might not even wake up. She pushed herself up on the branch.  _It's the right thing to do._ Then she laid back down again.  _No, no I made my choice._ She sighed. _Even if he needs me the rest of my life, I will not simply end his existence._ She looked up at the stars with a low growl.  _I am his mother, do you hear me?_

_I am his mother, and you cannot have my son!_


	19. Chapter Nineteen

“So the Creator touched her face under each eye twice, and dark marks like the tears she'd cried appeared.” Sigumba cleared his throat. “Then He said: In memory of your actions and the price you paid for them, your face shall forever be branded by your tears.” It was obvious he was trying his best to sound wise and grown up. He held his head high. “Those of your line who share your gifts, now given freely, will bear them as well. May none forget the tears you shed for what you have lost.”

“And that's the  _'Tale of Mahari'_?” Kiwara looked askance, first to him then to Mauja. “Sounds like some sleep-time story for cubs. Almost like the one my mother told me about the mother that lost her cubs and was marked by her tears.”

“We've noticed the similarity.” Mauja sniffed the air. The fur on her back stood up every few breaths. “Sigumba once told me that story because of my markings, and I in turn told him what my sister had taught me of Mahari.”

Sigumba stopped short. “But... I thought you told me about the mother who cried too long.” He folded his ears, confusion written all over his face.

Mauja tried to push aside the feeling of unease to comfort her son. “Well, I...”

“Sheesh, Si.” Kiwara snorted. “She's a lion. How would she know a  _cheetah_ story? Your mother must have told you.”

“She  _is_  my mother!” The fur stood up on Sigumba's back as he growled, his teeth bared.

Kiwara shook her head. “Si, I get she loves you and you love her, but she didn't birth you.” She folded her ears and her tail swished. “The one who  _did_ was your real mother.”

The unease pricked at Mauja's skin like thorns. She could not escape the feeling that the shadows were watching. The cheetahs' argument was pushed to the back of her mind as she scanned the savanna. Something was out there. She could feel it.

Tall, brown grass swayed on all sides as far as the eye could see. The leaves in the trees overhead danced in the wind. It carried no scents beyond their own.

Kiwara shoved Sigumba to his stomach. She held him there and gestured for Mauja to join them. “Get down!” she hissed. “Unless you want spotted by those 'guards'.”

Mauja crouched down beside the cheetahs, following Kiwara's gaze. She hushed her son, then held her breath.

The three lions walked through the grass as if they had not a care in the world. Their manes were dark and thick; clearly there was no shortage of food in this territory.

The last one in the line turned his head their way. He stopped short, putting all his weight on his forelegs. His nose curled.

_Creator!_  Mauja's heart tried to escape her chest.  _Please don't let the wind shift!_  Right then, the breeze blew from her right, thus not carrying their scent to the strangers.

The male in the lead, noticing his companion had paused, stopped himself and looked back. “What is it?”

“My imagination,” replied the one who had stopped first. He shook his head. “I thought I caught a familiar scent, but it couldn't be.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “We should get home before the rain comes. I won't relish being drenched.”

His companions just nodded and they disappeared into the distance.

They didn't move at first. The two females tried to remember how to breathe.

Sigumba had no such issue. He nudged Mauja's shoulder hard. “Mom did you see? Did you see?”

“See what?” snapped Kiwara. “See you nearly get us caught? And she's  _not_ your mother, for the last time!”

“Kiwara!” Mauja stood up, towering over the other female. Her eyes narrowed as her tail lashed her sides.

Kiwara flinched and folded her ears, pressing into the ground.

“First off, you were making just as much a fuss as he was. I'm grateful you noticed those males in time, but do not speak to him as if he was the only one at fault.” Mauja felt no sympathy despite the fear rolling off the female cheetah she had begun to consider a friend. She had finally put her doubts to rest. She would not allow anyone to reawaken them. “Secondly, I  _am_  his mother, for all that I did not bear him.”

Kiwara's eyes flashed and her fire returned. She bolted to her feet. “What does it matter? 'Males come and go', right? Lion or cheetah, he would not stay with his 'mother' regardless.” She began to pace, not unlike she had when they had started their acquaintance. “You asked me to teach him so he could survive  _without_  you, remember?”

Sigumba stared up at them, his mouth open in surprise. “Mom? Is... is that true?”

Mauja curled her lip at the smug look on Kiwara's face before she turned to her son. “Yes. But what Kiwara failed to mention is that I pointed out I cannot stay with you forever. If fate is kind, you will outlive me.”

He stood up, walked over to her and leaned into her side. His purr rumbled against her side. For once, he did not say a word.

“Males may come and go,” she continued before Kiwara could interject, “but  _my son_  will be welcome at my side until I draw my last breath. He will stay with me, until he decides otherwise. Is that clear?”

Kiwara stared, eyes going from Mauja to Sigumba and back again. Then she smiled. “Why am I surprised?” She laughed. “You already broke rules for him, what's one more?”

“I'm glad we could reach an understanding.” Mauja returned the smile, then turned to her son. “Now, what were you saying?”

His eyes lit up with excitement. “Mom, those lions,” he said. “Did you see? They had Mahari-markings just like you!”


	20. Chapter Twenty

“They did?” Mauja turned her gaze in the direction the lions had gone. _I should have been checking the lions we’ve come across for the markings. Tengwa’s daughter had them. Father did. I’m not the only one._

_What does it matter if they had them? You are all searching for something that is not there._

_If it is more than a cub’s tale, then wouldn’t that mean there’s a pride?_ Mauja raised a paw.  _Maybe..._

“Oh, come on,” said Kiwara, skepticism written all over her face. “You couldn't have possibly seen that from this distance.”

“I did so!” Sigumba curled his lip. “Just because you weren't paying attention doesn't mean I wasn't.”

“If you'd been paying attention, I wouldn't have had to pin your tail to the ground!”

“Enough, both of you.” Mauja looked back at the cheetahs. “I want you two to wait for me here.” She shook her head. “No, we need to find somewhere safer. This is too open.”

“Wait for you?” Kiwara stared at her as if she had become one of the Creator's Favorites. “Don't tell me you're going after them. They'll chase you off faster than Si and I can run!”

“If they do, so be it.” Mauja scanned the savanna once more. A pile of large boulders caught her eye and she headed toward them. After examining the rocks, she nudged Sigumba into a nook out of the wind and gestured for Kiwara to join him. “We can't keep wandering forever.”

“I can't believe I'm doing this.” Kiwara crawled down and curled up beside Sigumba. “You better come back. I sure ain't taking over as his mom.”

Sigumba snorted. “As if you could.”

“Hush, both of you. I'll be back before the rain hits.” There would be room enough for her as well, not that she cared about a little rain like the one male had.  _What lion hides from rain?_

Lion trails of varying age covered the area, making it difficult to identify any fresh scents. Had they missed the pride's territory markers? Or did these older scents belong to “children of Mahari” like herself, seeking shelter? It took several circles before she struck a recent trail.

_This is stupid. For all you know, those lions are just fools like you chasing a cub's tale. You will be lucky if they do not kill you._

_That one lion said 'we should get home'. So this must be their territory. Which means there must be a pride, too._ Would this pride – if there was one – accept an outside lioness? The song said there was a place waiting. Yet what pride accepted outsiders?

_Even if they accept you, what makes you think they'll accept the cheetahs any more than your birth pride did?_

Mauja shoved the concerns aside like a well-chewed bone. There was no use in trying to eat prey before it was caught. She turned her attention to the trail in front of her.

The tracks showed the males had walked in each other's prints. If not for the different scents, she would have assumed a single lion had made them.  _Odd how the front paws are placed down harder than the back, and one back paw harder than the other. Maybe one has a thorn in his paw?_   

She took a deep breath, pulling the odors in and held it.  _They smell like... me?_  The strangers' scents carried a note she had only ever caught in her own. When she focused on individual scents, one brought her elder sisters to mind. She and her siblings had shared notes, too. But not the one she shared with these strangers.

“ _We smell alike because we all share a sire.” Tengwa's lip curled in scorn. “That's Father's trace, even a cub like you should be able to figure that much out!”_

Mauja shook her head, clearing away the memory. The scent did not belong to any lion she had ever met. _If Mahari's line is branded by her tears, then Father would be related to them, too._ Her heart pounded in her ears _._ Could the story really be true?

She had stepped beyond the tall grass before she realized it. Mauja stopped short then looked up from the trail. And up.  _And up._ She took three steps back and crouched down in the grass.  _Creator! What is that!?_

A structure of mud rose high into the sky before the lioness. It resembled a termite mound built to mimic the side of a cliff. The resulting wall ran across the landscape with no break in sight.

_What creature builds such a thing?_ Mauja pressed her stomach to the ground. A wide stretch of hard-packed earth lay beyond the grass she hid within. She could read the tracks she had been following without taking another step. They led right up to the false cliff's side.  _But there is no opening. Did they climb such a steep incline?_  Movement along the top caught her eye.

A creature walked along upon two legs like a bird, forelimbs dangling at its sides. Its fur-less hide was a rich brown. The only fur it bore was the short, dark mane framing its flat face. A hide hung over its body, swaying as it moved.

_A Creator's Favorite!_ While Mauja had never seen a human before, her mother had described them to her many times.  _I don't think Mother ever saw one, either._ She eyed the paw prints, then the wall.  _Why did they walk right up to its den?_


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

“That pride-minded fool is going to get herself killed!” Kiwara growled under her breath. Her tail smacked against the stone surrounding them.  _Stupid lions and their pride-minded ways._

“What do you care?” Sigumba lay still with his head upon his paws. His ears flicked her way while his eyes stayed trained upon the entrance. “She dies you can finally go back to your happy single life. Not that Mom will.” His face betrayed he was not as sure of that as he tried to appear.

“I...” Kiwara narrowed her eyes. Her claws scraped the earth under her. Her fur stood on edge. “Lions like strange lions as much as they like cheetahs.”

“I know that.” Sigumba shivered. His tail twitched. “That's why we travel during the day, remember? To avoid other lions?”

“Yeah, because they'd...” Kiwara sighed and changed the subject.  _Kid's worried enough._ “So you know the story about the mother cheetah who was marked by her tears?”

“She lost her cubs and cried so long her face was marked forever, and all her cubs after that had it too.” Sigumba raised a paw and rubbed one of his own marks. “Just like Mahari's cubs had her markings, and their cubs did, and so on.”

_I wish she'd hurry up and get back already._ The worry was like a flea she could not reach. “You believe they're true? What if some mom just made them up because their cub asked and they didn't know the real answer?”

“You believe that one male tricked those females.” Sigumba glanced over before focusing on the entrance again. “Right?”

The sound of claws scraping on the rocks cut off any reply. Kiwara shoved Sigumba behind her into the corner with her shoulder. Her ears pulled back and her lip curled. No growl came to give them away.  _Wait... what am I doing?_

“Are you two all right?” Mauja slid into their hiding place. She curled up, her eyes far away. “At least I beat the rain...”

Kiwara hid the wince from Sigumba walking right over her. She ran her tongue over her mussed fur.

“MOM!” Sigumba pushed out from behind Kiwara and scrambled to the lioness. He nuzzled her side, purring. “What did you see? Were the other lions nice? Are you hurt?”

“I don't know if they are or not. I didn't see them.” Mauja bathed the half-grown cub. “Kiwara, you've seen more than I have.” The other female met her eyes. “Have you ever seen a cliffside made of mud?”

It wasn't the first time the lioness had acknowledged her larger experience.  _Sometimes, it feels like I'm the mother, and both of you are the cubs._ Kiwara tapped her tail again. “My mother said it's best to avoid 'em if I ever came across such. Why?”

“Those lions walked right up to one.” The lioness's bathing strokes betrayed her nerves. “I can't see why they would, but the trail doesn't lie.” She drew a deep breath. “I don't understand it.”

“If you're asking for answers on lion ways, you're asking the wrong cheetah.” Kiwara curled up and closed her eyes. “I'm just here to teach the kid, remember?”

The sky let loose. The downpour made the already-dark space even darker. The sound of rain pounding upon the rocks filled their hiding place. If anyone else came, they would not hear it.

Kiwara did not wait for the lioness to answer. She twitched once or twice, then drifted off to sleep.


	22. Breaking The Four Wall

"So, I just... stare forward and talk to nothing, like it can hear me?" Mauja eyed the strange yellow and white canine in confusion, then glanced in the direction indicated. "Like this?"

"Yes, just like that," the canine agreed. She nodded. "Just repeat exactly what I told you."

"Here goes nothing, I suppose." Mauja took a deep breath and turned her face towards the invisible audience that supposedly was there. "First, the author would like to thank everyone who follows this story for doing so. Second, she would like me to tell you that she has finally discovered what tangled up the story, and will soon have new chapters for you to enjoy."

"Yeah," the canine said with a smile. "I'll just have to rewrite seven chapters and add a new first chapter to iron out the problems. There will be a couple of minor edits to existing chapters, too."

"Despite that, we hope you stick with us and enjoy these revisions." Mauja tilted her head. "This is so weird, talking to something I can't see."

"Try talking to things no one else can see." The canine shook her head. "We'll be seeing you, dear readers. Until next time!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will likely be deleted later once said revisions are made and chapter 22 is posted. This was done more for other sites where you're not allowed to post "Author's Note" chapters. The "yellow and white canine" is my avatar, AshWolf.


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